


All the Difference

by asocialconstruct



Series: Climatic Shifts [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Bottom Steve Rogers, Captain America: The First Avenger, Leashes, Light BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Rimming, Smoking, Tie Kink, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 04:43:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3556481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asocialconstruct/pseuds/asocialconstruct
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve’s beautiful on his knees, always has been.  Bucky leans back in the little room’s one chair and gets his cigarettes out, looking this new Steve up and down.</p><p>--</p><p>PWP, Steve and Bucky immediately after the pub scene in TFA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Difference

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vassalady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vassalady/gifts).



> Hope you like it, vassalady! <3 <3 <3 I hope that you'll forgive that this is more like bdsm lite.
> 
> \--
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://a-social-construct.tumblr.com/)

Steve’s fucking beautiful on his knees, always has been.  Bucky leans back in the little room’s one chair and gets his cigarettes out, looking this new Steve up and down.

Steve’s breathing is shallow and he tips his chin up to meet Bucky’s look, like he hadn’t just gotten down on his knees for a blow and his mouth isn’t swollen from where Bucky had been kissing him raw against the wall of the dirty little walk up a bare minute before.  And fuck if that look isn’t pure Steve no matter how big he is now, desperate to be fucked rough and too prideful to say so, trying to goad Bucky into it with that look.  It worked when he was ninety pounds with rocks in his pockets and it works like a charm now.

So Bucky puts his feet up on Steve’s bed and lights his cigarette, ignoring Steve kneeling where Bucky left him.  He can feel Steve watching him, more intensely than he remembered in Brooklyn, but Bucky feels everything more intensely than in Brooklyn since getting pulled off Zola’s table and he ignores Steve half so he doesn’t have to think about what it means that Steve burned down a Nazi stronghold with the intensity of the look he’s giving Bucky now.

Steve’s bed is a queen size, an officer’s bed, a hero’s bed, like somebody figured Captain America should be tumbling into bed with some dream like Carter after that daring rescue.  But here he is, on his knees for Bucky, mouth parting like he’s finally going to say something about it.  Bucky, unwashed and unshaved, has his feet up on Captain fucking America’s bed, because Captain America is just Steve fucking Rogers, and Bucky is fucking Steve Rogers tonight.

“Take off your shirt,” Bucky says around his cigarette, finally looking at Steve.  Has to, eventually, if only to decide how he’s going to wipe that smug little smirk off Steve’s face now that he thinks he’s getting what he wanted.

The jacket is the first thing to go, and the way Steve tosses it on the floor gets Bucky harder than anything yet, that fucking prize Steve showed up to the pub all puffed up in, everything Bucky knows his bony assed little punk would have killed for even though Steve won it getting paraded around in tights on stage.  It’s Steve’s precious trophy, and he tosses it on the floor just because Bucky might fuck him.

The tie is next, and Steve takes his goddamn time with it because he’s flicked eyes at Bucky’s crotch and started thinking he knows how this is going to go.  Between the two of them, Bucky might be the only one who looks the same, but he watches where the tie lands because if Steve thinks he’s going to take his time now Bucky will _make_ him take his goddamn time later, and on Bucky’s schedule.  He can hear Dum-Dum and Monty downstairs laughing over the rest of the noise, and he just tips the chair back a little further as Steve finally starts in on his shirt buttons.

And it’s—fuck.

Bucky’s hit by a traitorous wave of grief and lust at the first peek of Steve’s fucking collarbone, and if he just focuses on that and not Steve’s broad shoulders, or his big hands, or his square jaw, it’s the summer of thirty-six and he’s just ripped a button off Steve’s shirt trying to suck a bruise into the bony, jutting hollow of his collarbone.  The soft sound of Steve breathing and wetting his lips as he works the next button open brings Bucky back.  Steve’s eyes are on him as the dress shirt comes off and the under shirt after it, and fuck if Bucky doesn’t want to pound him into the floor right then.

Because if the broad hulk of him is unfamiliar even with Steve on his knees, the invitation and the challenge on his face is the familiar throb that makes Bucky’s cock ache knowing that even though Steve could throw him off now, he wants Bucky to pin him down just as badly as Bucky wants to.  And the unfamiliarity of the possibility that Steve might, just might, throw him off if he really took a mind to it adds a little sparkling thrill to the well worn fantasy of Steve flipping him over and returning the favor.

The cigarettes are harsh and shitty, but Bucky lights another one anyway, to keep Steve from thinking he’s won and to keep himself from shoving Steve down and putting his mouth and hands over every inch of his new skin.

“Take off your belt,” Bucky says, and stands before Steve’s got it all the way off because Steve’s about ready to start on his fly and Bucky’s not ready for him to get that yet.  Steve’s too eager for it to let him off that easy.  Steve’s been ready, god knows, Bucky knows, since they stumbled out of that bombed out shithole, since Steve was old enough to know what sex was, since Bucky laid a hand on his knee downstairs and glanced at the door.  

Bucky’s been ready since he realized Steve was ready.  Doesn’t mean he’s going to give Steve what he wants.  What they both want.

Steve’s breath comes short when Bucky bends to take the belt from him and their hands brush.  He’s running as hot now as he used to run cold, and Bucky can practically feel the heat rolling off Steve’s bare skin standing so close.  What he wants to do is fuck Steve’s bruised, swollen mouth until they’re both warm and tangled up in that too-narrow bed; what he does instead is wrap the belt around his right hand and trail his left over the planes of Steve’s shoulders just to make him shiver.

He tips Steve’s chin up in his left hand, and Bucky doesn’t know how he ever fucking manages to do this, because just watching Steve’s mouth close around his thumb is almost enough to put him over the edge.  Steve’s mouth is just as hot as the rest of him and twice as obscene, and Bucky hopes those USO girls took advantage of a good thing while it lasted because he’s never fucking letting Steve out of his sight again.  Not the way Steve traces his tongue against the pad of Bucky’s thumb like that.  Bucky almost drops his cigarette from where it hangs at his lips, too distracted watching Steve's mouth.

Steve’s fucking beautiful on his knees, new bones and new uniform and new shield notwithstanding.  He’s still a contrary son of a bitch, though, and Bucky pulls away when Steve grazes teeth over Bucky’s knuckle like Steve is the one running the show.  

Bucky unwraps the length of Steve’s belt from around his hand.  Hangs it straight in front of Steve’s nose so his dirty mind can get ahead of him with wondering what Bucky’s going to do with it, and lets Steve’s cock strain against his closed fly for a good minute.  Bucky takes a last drag of his cigarette before grinding it out on the floor, giving Steve plenty of time to think about how this is going to go.

Steve’s always been better at this part than Bucky.  He’s big enough now that Bucky could take the belt to his ass instead of the flat of his hand, really pink up Steve’s bony ass before fucking him.

He files that away for later, because he’s got other plans for tonight.  The belt fits snug between Steve’s jaw and his adam’s apple, just wide enough to be a little uncomfortable.  The buckle rests cool under Steve’s ear as Bucky threads the length of it through, just tight enough to stay in place when he steps back to get a look at Steve.

Steve’s breath is shallow, coming a little faster now that the smugness has been wiped off his face and he’s tracking Bucky’s movements.  It’s a good look on him.  He’s broad and solid and fucking perfect in the lamplight, and so fucking trusting.  Steve’s eyes flicker over the belt in Bucky’s hand and back up to his face, but otherwise he’s perfectly still.  

Bucky winds the length of it around his hand and steps closer again, letting his hard cock brush Steve’s shoulder.  Steve shudders and tries to turn into him, but Bucky tugs the impromptu leash to keep him in place.  Because—Christ.  If Steve ninety pounds soaking wet and prickly as all hell doing exactly what Bucky told him had been one kind of turn on, Steve built like a tank and twice as contrary as before is an entirely new kind of drug.

Bucky runs his free hand through Steve’s hair, and that’s comfortingly familiar enough that he does it again.  He lets Steve turn his head into that, square jaw tilting up for it and eyes closed, because Bucky’s a weak son of a bitch and he needs this worse than Steve does.

“Bucky—“ Steve starts, the first thing he’s said since they came up to his room.  His voice is rough as the rest of him is smooth, and Bucky doesn’t regret at all that whatever they pumped Steve full of didn’t give him even the shadow of facial hair.  Bucky still hasn’t shaved since before the 107th got caught out, and he’s going to burn Steve’s face and thighs raw with his own stubble.  That might be the best part about Steve like this, that for as changed and perfect as Steve looks and for as dirty and unwashed as Bucky is, Steve’s still just as filthy as he ever was.  Bucky tilts Steve’s jaw up to run his thumb over Steve’s warm lips.

“Tell me what you want,” Bucky says, giving the belt a pull, just enough for Steve to feel it.  “You’re not getting up off the floor and you’re not getting fucked until you tell me what you want.”

Steve blushes at that, like he’s not kneeling at Bucky’s feet with a belt around his neck.  He turns his face into Bucky’s hand and looks up with those angelic eyes.  “I want to suck you off,” Steve says, bold as anything despite the red flush pinking his cheeks and the tips of his ears.  “I want—“

“No you don’t,” Bucky cuts him off with a laugh before Steve can get to the rest of it.  “What you _want_ is to get bent over the bed and make me do all the work, what you want to _talk_ about is sucking me off.  Big difference, Cap.”

Steve huffs at that, but then he’s licking his lips and Bucky’s thumb besides, so there’s not much for either of them to think about.  Bucky almost lets himself get distracted, but thinks better of it and yanks Steve to his feet and—fuck.  Steve standing in his stocking feet is taller, broader than Bucky remembers to think about, and the vertigo of Steve stooping to kiss is disorienting as Bucky stoops to grab Steve’s tie from the floor.  Steve takes a shuddery breath as Bucky backs him against the wall while unbuttoning Steve’s fly, solid muscle gone shivery under Bucky’s callused hands.

Steve’s back thuds against the wall as Bucky shoves his pants the rest of the way down, sucking a dark bruise just below Steve’s collarbone where it won’t show when he’s buttoned up properly, while Steve kicks out of his pants.  He’s hard and pressed against Bucky’s belly, rolling his hips for it even though the combination of belt buckle and undershirt Bucky’s still wearing can’t be comfortable.  But that always was the attractive thing about Steve, how bad he needed it whether Bucky was just home from work in his suit or taping up bloody knuckles.  Steve’s skin is hot and his skin goes extra pink where Bucky’s stubble rubs him, and that’s incentive enough to flip him against the wall and tie his hands.

Steve’s shoulder hits the wall with a satisfying thud as Bucky shoves him, Steve going with it because Bucky caught him by surprise and the quick tense and flex of Steve’s broad shoulders as he thinks about fighting back makes them both shiver.  But then it passes and Bucky’s got Steve’s wrists caught up in the necktie with a solid knot.

He can feel Steve’s hands flex against his belly as Bucky grinds into his ass and grips Steve’s cock and—fuck, that hasn’t changed at all, Steve as big as ever.  Steve pants against the wall and grinds back as Bucky strokes him slower than Bucky knows he wants.

“What do you want, Steve?” Bucky murmurs in his ear, cock pressed as flush against Steve’s ass as they can get with Bucky still dressed.  Not enough contact to really be satisfying, but that’s sort of the point.  They used to have to practically stand Steve on a box to get his ass high enough to fuck like this, and Bucky’s going to put off actually fucking him for as long as he can, just because he can.

“Come on, Buck, just fuck me already,” Steve says against the wall.  “It’s been too long, not going to last if you—“

“Yeah?” Bucky cuts him off with a squeeze and a sharp bite to his shoulder.  “So your virtue was safe from all those USO girls after all?”  The way Steve shudders between him and the wall is answer enough, and it's fucking beautiful because Bucky’ll get it out of him later, in Steve’s flustered blushing even if not the details.

“Please—“ Steve says instead, right where Bucky wants him.  Steve forgetting to be too prideful to beg is everything Bucky ever wanted, and he pulls the belt back over Steve’s shoulder and down his back just to remind him who’s in charge as Bucky sinks to his knees behind Steve.

Bucky bites the back of Steve’s thigh to make sure Steve can feel his stubble and imagine what’s coming before it happens.  The belt just brushes the small of Steve’s back above his tied wrists, and the sight of Steve pushing his ass back under Bucky’s hands while he waits for it so prettily is one Bucky’ll keep with him for a while.  Bucky brushes the palm of his hand over Steve’s balls from behind, just enough to be ticklish and make Steve’s breath hitch before leaning in to pull Steve wider and lick just enough to tease.

Steve goes dead still, breathing fast through his nose where his cheek is pressed against the wall.  Bucky teases him with the tip of his tongue before giving Steve a flat lick and making him feel the stubble of Bucky’s cheek against his ass.  The muscle of Steve’s hole tenses and relaxes under Bucky’s mouth and he can’t help laughing at Steve trying so hard to be good and wait to be fucked, because Steve’s practically standing on tiptoes and the tendons of his thighs and calves are standing out he’s so tense.  Bucky presses a thumb into Steve just enough to lick around the stretch, pulling just enough to make Steve finally let out a shuddery moan through his teeth while Bucky’s tongue flickers against him.

Steve’s trying so hard to wait, but he comes when Bucky’s tongue pushes into him instead of his thumb, steady and regular.  Steve barely makes a sound with it, and Bucky hums into him instead of laughing, bringing a hand up to hold Steve’s flexing wrists as Steve stiffens and comes without a touch to his cock, just Bucky’s tongue in his ass.  Bucky’s cruel, because he finally puts a hand back on Steve’s cock then, stroking him through it and past with Steve’s come slick on his hand, making Steve ride it out as Bucky curls his tongue.

“Christ, you’re beautiful like this,” Bucky says when Steve’s floating back down to just pant and shiver against the wall.  He sits back on his heels to survey his good work, Steve’s ass and the inside of his thighs pink with razorburn and a little wet, Steve’s hard cock still twitching.

“Taking the Lord’s name in vain,” Steve tsks over his shoulder, only a little breathless.

“Yeah?” Bucky says, pulling Steve away from the wall to finally shove down on the bed.  “You gonna wash my mouth out with soap, Cap, or just spank me for it?”  He slaps Steve’s ass before undoing his own belt, Steve spreading his legs at it.  Because he is fucking beautiful, cheek pressed to the bed and ass in the air as he tracks Bucky’s movements over his shoulder, hands still tied behind his back.

Bucky wraps the belt around his hand again as he slicks himself up, close enough that Steve can feel Bucky’s knuckles graze his ass.  He pushes in while Steve’s still oversensitive and coming down from it, and yeah, it’s a little cruel, but in the way Steve likes.

Steve’s tighter than ever, whether from coming or whatever the Army’s done to him Bucky can’t tell and doesn’t particularly care, not in that moment where he can feel Steve trying to relax around him before Bucky pulls back and pushes back in just a little farther, slick enough to move but not enough to make it easy for Steve because when did Steve ever want anything easy.

Fucking Steve is like fucking a brick wall, except now he’s shivering and almost scrambling to get away one second, pushing his ass up for it the next and Bucky’s still got the belt wrapped around his hand anyway.  He digs slicked fingers into Steve’s thigh, pulling his ass up.  Bucky lets go of the belt to flex his left hand on Steve’s broad shoulder, his own breath coming short as he watches Steve’s eyes close against the mattress and his mouth open, panting even though he just came.  And fucked if Steve isn’t still hard or hard again when Bucky reaches down to grab his cock and pull Steve into him, Steve jerking under him like he doesn’t know if he wants to get away or flip Bucky over and ride him.  

That thought drives any pretense at subtlety out of him, Steve panting raggedly and spread out as Bucky uses Steve’s weight to drive into him.  Steve might be all solid muscle now, but he comes apart under Bucky’s hands in the lamplight, ass in the air as Bucky’s zipper digs into his skin.  Steve’s breath is the only sound in the room as Bucky finally sinks all the way into him, Steve’s ass flush against him.

“Fuck, Steve,” Bucky manages, because fucking Steve is all he can think of, tight and hot and perfect.  Steve shudders as Bucky gropes a hand into his hair, going clumsy and erratic as he gets closer.  “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”  Steve’s hair is just long enough to yank, and it’s more satisfying than the belt, feeling Steve’s head come up, watching his mouth part like that as Bucky fucks him.

It’s been too long for him too and he comes in Steve with a last few shuddery thrusts and a moan, collapsing across Steve on the bed, hand still on Steve’s cock under them both.  Steve makes a couple of disgruntled noises until Bucky rolls them to their sides to bring him off, Steve coming around him as Bucky buries his face against Steve’s broad shoulder and shakes with the intensity of it.  If he closes his eyes it’s more familiar than unfamiliar, Steve shivering around him even if the body he’s in is broad and strange.

There’s nothing unfamiliar about the way Steve sighs and finally goes liquid under Bucky’s hands after coming twice in a handful of minutes.  Bucky’s more comforted by that than he wants to admit as he tosses away the belt and tie and finally shoves out of his own clothes and shoes to curl against Steve's naked back, broad and different as he is.  Steve’s beautiful and always will be.


End file.
